First, the Wikipedia stuff…
Manzanar is the site of one of ten American concentration camps, where more than 120,000 Japanese Americans were incarcerated during World War II from March 1942 to November 1945. It is located at the foot of the Sierra Nevada mountains in California's Owens Valley, between the towns of Lone Pine to the south and Independence to the north, approximately 230 miles (370 km) north of Los Angeles. Manzanar means "apple orchard" in Spanish. The Manzanar National Historic Site, which preserves and interprets the legacy of Japanese American incarceration in the United States, was identified by the United States National Park Service as the best-preserved of the ten former camp sites.
Since the last of those incarcerated left in 1945, former detainees and others have worked to protect Manzanar and to establish it as a National Historic Site to ensure that the history of the site, along with the stories of those who were incarcerated there, is recorded for current and future generations. The primary focus is the Japanese American incarceration era, as specified in the legislation that created the Manzanar National Historic Site. The site also interprets the former town of Manzanar, the ranch days, the settlement by the Owens Valley Paiute, and the role that water played in shaping the history of the Owens Valley.
My turn. At the beginning of a circuitous road trip that Jadyne and I took to Colorado, we dipped down #395 on the eastern side of the Sierrra Nevada mountains, stopping at Manzanar. Although the barracks are gone, foundations remain. It is easy to imagine what it must have looked like seventy-eight years ago. The views looking west are spectacular.
Inside one of the remaining buildings mementos, maps, and photos give testimony to the thousands who were imprisoned there, victims of American racism. A locked glass cabinet holds letters, teddy bears, and jewelry from the residents. Jadyne walked over to look.
The cabinet.
OMG! She exclaimed. There’s one of your photos! In the second shelf to the far right, a boy had addressed a letter to one of the former residents, his grandfather, a man he’d never met.
Evan’s letter and a wallet photograph from Montgomery High School’s Prom.
Although the text was difficult to read from my photo, I have been able to transcribe it. It is as follows,
“Although we never met, never talked, never saw each other, it is you that I have to thank for all I have now. My happiness through life I hold dear would not have happened had it not been for you. It is here in Manzanar that I realize how different your life is from mine and how truly blessed I am. Thank you for your sacrifices and for giving me the life I now appreciate so much more. May heaven hold as much good for you as it has already given me.” Evan